The Untitled Rewrite Of Twilight
by GoodnessGraciousMazes
Summary: About three things I was absolutely positive. First, the Cullens were something different, something not entirely human. Second, there was a part of them-and I didn't know how dominant that part might be-that thirsted for blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably accepting of them. (Full Summary Inside) For all of yous who've wished Twilight wasn't so romance based.
1. Preface

**The Untitled Rewrite of The Twilight Saga**

A Twilight Fanfiction by GoodnessGraciousMazes

**A.N.: **I'm doing the thing guys. 'Nough said, yo.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters. I only own my own original characters and this plot.

**Summary: **About three things I was absolutely positive. First, the Cullens were something different, something not entirely human. Second, there was a part of them-and I didn't know how dominant that part might be-that thirsted for blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably accepting of them.

Violetta Swan's move to Forks, a small, perpetually rainy town in Washington, could have been the most exciting move she ever made. But once she meets the residents and their judging children, Violetta's life once again takes a depressing and stressful turn.

Up until now, the Cullens have managed to keep their vampire identity a secret in the small, cloudy communities they've lived in, but, when they move to Forks and Dr. Carlisle Cullen enrolled his children into the local High School, they find keeping their secret gets harder and harder when Violette Swan befriends a very reluctant Rosalie.

**PREFACE**

Maybe it's a bit morbid, but I'd always given thought to how I would die- though I hadn't reason enough in my short, relatively safe life- and even though I had, no where in my wildest imaginings did a death like _this _ever come up.

I glared across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, my nostrils flaring, and he looked pleasantly back at me.

Surely it was a good way to die, in place of someone else, someone I loved. Noble even. But that's not the mind set I wanted to go into this with. No, I was coming out of this; alive. If not for me, then for her. Because without me, she would be lost and I couldn't have that hanging over my head, not even in the after life.

I suppose if I had never gone to Forks, none of this would have happened. I would still be in Arizona, land of the sweltering sun, living with a miserable mother and an melodramatic younger sister. Although I could not help the 'what if's, I knew I would not trade my days in Forks for the world. Those beautiful, shades of green and grey days that had me grinning from ear to ear and drunk on happiness. Those were the memories I drew strength from now.

The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me.

**A.N.:**And there's the Preface. Favorite or Alert for new chapters and please review to tell me how you like it so far.

Until next time, GGM Out.


	2. The Years Before The Start Part One

**The Untitled Rewrite of Twilight**  
**A Twilight Fan Fiction by GoodnessGraciousMazes**  
**A.N.:** I don't plan on this fiction being a copy paste version of the Twilight Saga where I replace Bella's name with my own character's. This will be a mostly original story loosely following Twilight and New Moon before veering off into a story all it's own. I only make the beginning as it is to better make it known exactly how different Violetta and Bella are. The second chapter will be different.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters. I only own my own original characters and this plot.

**Chapter One: The Years Before the Start Part One**  
_June 27, 2002_

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled up and the AC blasting. It was one-hundred two degrees in Phoenix, the sky a terrible, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt -folded up sleeves, plaid purple button up; I was wearing it as welcoming gesture. My carry-on item was a diaper bag.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and it's refreshing, ubiquitous shade that my mother kidnapped me when I was just two years old. It was in this town that I'd been freely spending one month every summer to visit my father. First with my sister, then alone when she turned twelve and I fourteen. That was the year she threw the tantrum of the century and demanded our dad, Charlie, come to Arizona to spend two weeks with her instead. These past two years I'd been coming down to Forks for a month and then heading back to Phoenix with dad, so he could spend a couple weeks with us there before heading back home.

It was to Forks that I now escape to -an action that I took great pleasure in. I absolutely adored Forks.

I hated Phoenix. I hated the sun and the blistering heat. I hated the crowded, noisy city.

"Violetta," Renée said to me -the first time in so many months- before I got on the plane. "Are you sure you want to take her with you? It wouldn't be any trouble to keep her at home."

My mother and I look only moderately alike. I take more after my dad with our dark brown hair and muscular builds, Mariella takes after us both in that aspect. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, child-like eyes. How could I leave Mariella here all alone with her? Of course she'd be fed and taken care of, but just the thought of anyone taking care of her other than me, especially the one who didn't want me to have her in the first place...

"I want to bring her with me," I said truthfully, pulling the car seat closer to my chest.

Renée opened her mouth as if to say something before closing it again and shaking her head. "You know I only want what's best for you. I don't want for you to end up stuck in a place you don't want to be... like I was," she said.

I stopped myself before I could scoff and roll my eyes, "I'll tell Dad you said hi."

"I'll see you soon," she called after me as I turned and boarded my plane.

It was a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane to Port Angeles- by that time Mariella had awoken and began crying to be fed, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. The drive didn't bother me- I was actually looking forward to the time spent with Charlie- it was the flying that bothered me. Being in a huge metal box thousands of feet in the air for hours on end where just about anything could go wrong, some other girl can enjoy that, me on the other hand will wave happily as they passed me by. Give me a road trip any day and I'm good.

Dad had been fairly nice about the whole thing. He'd only threatened Paul's life a couple times and he immediately took to Mariella when she was born. He seemed genuinely pleased that we were coming to visit him for the month. He'd already set up my old crib in Bella's and my room and was talking about taking Mariella to meet Uncle Billy and the rest of the La Push rez.

But it was sure to be awkward being at the reservation. What with Paul avoiding me and his mothers over bearing personality. She had been desperately trying to get us together since I found out I was pregnant with her grandchild. She had even taken multiple trips to Phoenix to 'get to know me better' and was in the room when I was in labor. A very painful and embarrassing memory that I would forget all together if it hadn't of been for it being the birth of my daughter.

When we landed in Port Angeles it was raining. I saw it as a welcome home from the skies and a beautiful goodbye to the sun.

Dad was waiting for me with the cruiser. I was expecting this. Dad is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks and he didn't see a need to get another car when the cruiser worked perfectly well. What I wasn't expecting was the four foot teddy bear sitting in the back seat next to the dozens of plastic bags marked babies'r'us on the front.

Dad gave an embarrassed cough, mumbling something along the lines of, "wanted to make sure she had everything," before engulfing me in a one-armed hug that turned into him leading me, and Mariella in her car seat hanging from my arm, to the other side of the car. A quick shifting of plastic bags and a belt buckle later and Mariella was securely strapped into the police cruiser and continuing on with her nap.

"It's good to see you, Etta," he said, smiling as he helped me pick up my bags and load them into the trunk. "How're your sister and Renée?"

"It's good to see you, too, Dad. Bella and Mom are fine." I wasn't allowed to call her Renée out loud.

I watched as Dad went back to grab my last two bags. Most of my Arizona clothes had come with me to Forks for the summer. Being that I spent most of my summers in Forks or inside with the air conditioner on blast, I had never felt the need to build a sunny weather wardrobe and instead spent my clothes money on things that would keep me warm. Add to that Mariella's own clothes and necessities bags and it was no wonder why they barely fit into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I talked to Billy," Dad announced when we were strapped in and heading on our way.

"What'd he say?" I took the time to glance back at Mariella and re-adjust her blanket.

"He said he'd be happy to have us over. Said he needs to welcome the first of the new generation of Quileutes properly." He said the last part in a half growl.

"Well, that's nice of him."

"Yeah, real nice." He was looking ahead at the road when he said this, slowing down to stop for the red light. Dad wasn't good with hiding his feelings from me. Just like I wasn't good at hiding mine from him. So it didn't take long for me to understand he wasn't happy with something.

"What?"

He continued to stare out for a while before shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. "Paul's gonna have to be there," he finally said as if that explained everything.

And it did. For months now Paul had been avoiding me and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't seem to get him on the phone for any amount of time. Someone else would always answer with an excuse at the ready. Lately, I'd only been staying on the phone long enough to hear it wasn't him who answered and then hanging up. "Oh," was all I could say as my thoughts whirled.

"Yeah." Dad understood. He was the only one who really knew me, knew how I really felt about all this. He didn't make me feel like I was a burden, he never tried to talk me out of any decisions I've made. He'd been my one true constant through this last year and I don't think I'll ever properly be able to show him how much that meant to me. "He's still unavailable?"

I laughed, dryly. 'Unavailable', that was a gentle way to put it. "Yeah... but I can understand where he's coming from. He's just a kid, he's scared."

"You're a kid and you're handling it a hundred times better than he is," Dad shook his head, softly pushing down on the gas when the light turned green.

"I'm a different kind of kid. I have experience taking care of a child. Paul... he's never held a baby in his life."

"Isn't any excuse."

"I know," I said turning in my seat to get a good look at little Mariella. Her little eyebrows scrunched and she gave a little whimper before shifting and settling down again. "But it's the only one I got right now."

He reached over to give me a small pat on the head and I smiled back at him in response. Silence filled the car as we were left in our own thoughts. I stared out the window at the surrounding greenery when mine got too heavy.

Forks was beautiful- no one could deny that. Everything was green; the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leafs.

It was wonderfully green- a beautiful utopia.

Eventually we made it to Dad's. He still lived in the small, two bedroom house that he'd bought with Renée during the early days of their marriage (those were the only kind of days their marriage had- the early ones.). The small, unchanging house was a welcome comfort I allowed myself to soak in as Dad parked us in the driveway and got out to help with my bags.

It took multiple trips to get mine and Mariella's things upstairs and took even longer when I saw Dad had taken the time to baby-proof the stairs and move any breakables out of reach. I hugged him long and hard for that.

"I'm glad you like it," he said gruffly, embarrassed again.

We got the West bedroom that faced over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellow lace curtain around the window- these were all a precious part of my childhood and what I hoped to be a part of Mariella's own. The only changes Dad had made over the years were switching out mine and Bella's cribs for beds and adding in a desk. Bella's bed had now been replaced with my old crib for Mariella and the desk had been filled with the knick knacks and treasures I had collected over the summers. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.

"I washed the sheets and blankets for the crib already, so that she could use it as soon as you both got here. Figured she'd be tuckered out after all that traveling," Dad said as he rolled in the last of my suitcases.

And that's all it took to break me. The tears sprung up before I could think to stop them and I could just feel my face getting blotchy. It might seem like it was just a small insignificant thing but, Renée would have never done the same for me. She had made it a point since our first fight over Mariella to leave me to do everything on my own. I guessed she was trying to teach me a lesson and prove I couldn't handle it.

"Thanks, Dad. It's perfect." I took the opportunity to hide my face from him by gently lifting Mariella from her car seat and laying her down in the soft blankets of what was now her crib. When I turned back around I saw Dad smiling at the scene. That is until he saw my face.

He froze. Charlie was a great Dad and he understood me better than anyone else, but that didn't stop him from freezing up at the sight of tears. He never knew what to do with a crying woman, especially if the woman was his daughter. "I- um, are-? What," he stumbled over words like Bella stumbled over cracked concrete.

"I can't stand Phoenix." The words were out and I didn't care to stop the others that followed. "It's always loud and crowded and stuffy. Renée drives me crazy and Bella isn't any better. She tries to play mediator, but all it does is make things worse. Renée is always sticking her nose into everything I do and she always has something say. I hate her."

Dad was silent, if from shock or something else I didn't know, but I decided to wait until he could answer. And he did a couple moments later, after motioning me out of the room and closing the door behind us. "Alright... Alright, we'll call Renée tomorrow and try to talk it through-"

That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. "I've tried talking it through with her, but she just won't listen. She thinks she's doing what's best for me, but she's just making me miserable. Everything I do is wrong, everything she says is right. I can't take it anymore, Daddy. I can't be in the same house as that woman anymore."

He opened his mouth, but no sound came. He took the time to look at me, really look at me and I guess he saw what he was looking for, because only seconds later his arms were wrapped around me and he was nodding into my hair. "Alright. Then I guess you'll just have to move back to Forks. With me."

We stood like that for I don't know how long, me sobbing into his shirt and him smoothing down my hair and peppering it with kisses. We only pulled apart when the sounds of Mariella waking up forced me to move over to her and cradle her in my arms.

_September 4, 2002  
6:05 a.m._

Forks High School had a lovely total of only three-hundred thirty-nine- now forty- students; there were more than seven hundred people in my sophomore class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together- their grandparents had been toddlers together. I only wished that I had had an opportunity to be one of them.

Maybe, if I had at least gone to elementary school here, I could work that to my advantage. But, physically, I didn't think I'd ever fit in here. I shouldn't be tan, sporty - a volleyball player and ballet dancer - all the things that come with living in the valley of the sun.

Instead, I should have been ivory skinned, with hair that had never seen the sun and eyes well adjusted to the over shadowing of constant clouds. I should be one of them. I should know everyone in town and have a usual waitress at the local diner. I should have grown up with these kids. I should have been to every one of their birthdays and started the first day of every school year with them by my side - I blamed Renée for stealing me away when I was two.

I finished putting my freshly laundered clothes in the old pine dresser next to Mariella's crib, taking a peek at her sleeping soundly as I walked past. Grabbing my bag of bathroom necessities, I exited the room, closing the door behind me, and called down to Dad to tell him to keep an ear out for the baby before going to the bathroom to clean myself up for school.

. . . . . . . .

I looked at my face in the mirror after my shower, brushing through my tangled damp hair. My skin was pretty -it was very clear, almost translucent-looking- but it was the color that made it what it was. The eternal tan that didn't seem to wash away no matter how long I spent out of the sun had still held during my months so far in Forks and showed no sign of retreating. For that I was grateful. I would loath to look any more like my mother than I already did.

Facing my reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn't only my appearance and my non-existent history in Forks that would never let me fit in. And if I couldn't find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?

I related well to people my age, but I could never seem to make any real friends. Maybe the truth was that I didn't let anyone get close enough to attain the title. Even my father, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, wasn't always in harmony with me, never on exactly the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.

But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect. And five hundred contacts in my phone without a single text in two months just seemed like the norm nowadays.

Thick fog was all I could see out of my window as I got dressed, and I could feel the euphoria of knowing I was here, in Forks with Dad, burst. You could never see the sky here; it was magnificent.

Breakfast with Dad was it's usual event. He set the table. I dished out the meal. Mariella sat in her high chair watching the both of us move about. We spoke of the coming day, dad wishing me luck with school and me thanking him, knowing the day was going the way it was going to go whether or not his luck was given. Though from past experiences, I knew good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined my small kitchen, with it's dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Hardly anything was changed. My mother had painted the cabinets fifteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining family room was a row of pictures. Most I had taken down or replaced in my months in my new old home, leaving behind pictures of Dad, Renée, and me in the hospital after I was born, another of the three of us plus Bella at her own birth -both taken by a helpful nurse-, followed by the procession of mine and Bella's school photos up to last year's. The new additions were Mariella's own birth day picture, and a family photo of Dad, Mariella, and me taken in the living room last month.

It was wondrous, being in this house, living here, but it was also dejecting, to be reminded that Dad had never really gotten over Renée. It made me a bit uncomfortable, hence the subtle and continuous changed on my part. If Dad noticed, he didn't say anything to me. Or try to change anything back.

I didn't want to be late to school so with a smile I lifted Mariella from her seat and took her up to our room to get her ready for the baby-sitter that would be arriving soon. After changing her diaper and throwing the soiled one away, pulling on Mariella's onesie and snapping the buttons closed, and placing all of her infant necessities out for the baby sitter to easily see, I took us back downstairs and sat on the couch to wait. I didn't have to for long. A moment later there was a knock at the door and I was out the door five minutes later after giving Mariella goodbye kisses and promises of coming home as soon as I could.

I donned my jacket -a comfy, fur lined number- and headed out into the rain. It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I slipped my house key from my jean pocket and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was encouraging. I had always disliked the crunch of gravel as I walked. I paused in the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood, and admired my little black Camaro that was a gift from Charlie. It wasn't anything shiny or sleek, in fact it was pretty banged up and had paint peeling in a couple places, but it was mine and I absolutely adored it. Even if it was almost twice my age.

Inside the car, it was nice and dry. Dad had obviously cleaned up the car before he gave it to me, but the grey upholstered seats still smells faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and fresh pine. The engine started quickly, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at moderate volume. The radio was an appreciated plus.

Finding my new school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be Forks High School, made me stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. The feel of an institution was lost to the establishment and the thought made me giddy. The lack of chain-link fences and metal detectors was noted with equal enthusiasm.

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. NO one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits to students, but I decided I wouldn't get into to much trouble being new and all. I stepped out of the car and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside was brightly lit, and as warm as I thought it'd be. The office was small: a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, adding a favorable touch. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, re-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a navy blue shirt that matched neatly with her eyes.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Violetta Swan," I informed her and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of conversation no doubt. Daughter of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last, with a daughter of her own no less.

"Of course," she said, a terse edge to her tone. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk until she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my class subjects quickly, highlighting the routes to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She had said that part as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. My dismissal was obvious when she handed me my papers and turned back to her computer screen.

Confused, I went back out to my car. Other students were beginning to arrive. I drove around the school, after the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. In Phoenix I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a 1995 Honda accord much like the one Phil drove back in Arizona. I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I slid everything into my purse, slug the strap over my shoulder, and exhaled a huge breath. I can do this, I thought to myself. Everyone wold be kind and welcoming. I sucked in a gulp of air and stepped out of the car.

I kept my face open and smiling as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. Nodding or waving when my eyes met someone else's.

Once I got around the cafeteria, building two was easy to spot. A large black "2" was painted on a white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping toward hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I opened the door and stepped in.

The classroom was small. Just inside the door was a row of hooks, to which I assumed to be used for coats from the handful already hanging there. I added my own to them, shaking my head to rid my hair of the droplets clinging to it. Looking around I saw that most of the desks were already taken and every gaze was turned my way.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a stout, older man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Warren. He gawked at me when he saw my name - not an encouraging response - and I couldn't stop the light red blush across my cheeks. Thankfully, he at least sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I met their gazes with smile.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a slim girl with brunette hair curly as a corkscrew leaned across across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Violetta Swan, right?"


End file.
